


Seven Deadly Sins

by Furorscribiendi



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furorscribiendi/pseuds/Furorscribiendi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of ficlets with certain characters and their *cough* shall we say, vices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Deadly Sins

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [sga_flashfic](http://sga-flashfic.livejournal.com/)'s 7 Deadly Sincs challenge over on LJ. I just left them all together in one piece rather than breaking them up into separate chapters.

_ Pride _

I’ve done it again. I, Rodney McKay, am a genius.

I mean, this is just one in a long string of accomplishments that I have made since coming to Atlantis. I could go into it, but I’d be talking for a long while. Speaking of which, my throat has been feeling rather dry lately. I should see Carson about it before it turns into strep throat or something else equally nasty.

But yes, my accomplishments. It’s a long list, one that can easily put some people, such as oh, I don’t know, Kavanagh, to shame. By the time they were even contemplating dissertation papers, I had at least one under my belt. It would have been two, but there was a horrible incident with the Classics department involving a rather mentally challenged, arrogant professor, and a mark of, can you believe this, 65, on what was flawless Latin. Said it didn’t capture the nuance of what Ovid was trying to say.

But I digress again. My latest accomplishment, or rather what will be, is something we found on a little planet. Apparently the Ancients called it Project Arcturus. Something went horribly wrong, and blah, blah, blah. But the point is that, with my brilliance leading, we can’t fail.

It wasn’t hard figuring out exactly where the Ancients went wrong. Getting Dr Weir to allow us to go back the first time took no effort at all.

It was harder convincing her in allowing Sheppard and I back the second time.

Not that I really blame her. But as I said, we have a duty to learn from the mistake and make this work.

I won’t have let Collins died in vain like that.

And I am not about to pass up the opportunity to have a power source equal to 25 ZPMs just go slipping through our fingers. Not when there’s my intellect and we need power pretty badly.

John’s flying us back in to Arcturus now, with a pissy, anxious look on his face.

“Look, nothing’s going to happen.”

“Okay, whatever you say.”

Seriously, this is more insulting than if Sheppard outright said he didn’t trust me.

“You think I’m lying.”

Sheppard inhales sharply for a moment. “You asked me to trust you. And you’ve certainly earned it. But my gut tends to be much more accurate about when something’s about to get really bad.”

“Nothing’s going to happen; you’ve got me there.” I said, trying to sound more cheerful than usual. I probably sound like some sort of homicidal maniac; cheerful isn’t me.

Sheppard flicks a glance at me. “Okay, McKay.”

* * *

_ Envy _

Rodney McKay is full of himself. It doesn’t help that he’s also full of shit, reckless bravado and sheer stupidity.

He could have blown us all up when the jumper got stuck in the active gate, playing with the controls when he didn’t know what did what.

Not to mention that gross oversight of simple fact coupled with overly bloated hubris that resulted in the disaster of Arcturus.

And when he came up with that brilliant idea to blow up the nuke over Atlantis to fool the Wraith, we were lucky to escape without radiation poisoning. I did the math afterwards. That shield was barely able to do the job.

And I know what happened on board the Ancient weapon orbiting in space. Only a moron like McKay would inadvertently lock someone in. We couldn’t afford to lose Grodin; he was the best technician that we had.

And that’s not counting the other numerous lapses in ethical judgment that constantly threaten the health of the personnel and the sheer functionality of Atlantis as a whole.

I seriously do not understand Dr Weir’s severe lapse in judgment in allowing a clearly psychotic and neurotic man like McKay to lead the science department.

I’m obviously the best choice to lead the department. I have more relative and much more recent, ground breaking and unclassified credentials and work to my name.

“Kavanagh!”

McKay’s grumpy bark turns everyone’s attention to me.

“Yes?” I bite out with some modicum of patience.

“Now that you’ve got your head out of your ass, do you think you could at least pretend to be paying attention?”

I scowl at McKay and he draws himself up.

“And maybe you should pull that pole out as well, and get over yourself.” McKay snaps.

Everyone looks between us nervously, expecting me to chew him out. But I’ll bite my tongue this time.

McKay looks mildly satisfied, and goes back to wasting everyone’s time by stating the obvious.

One day McKay will screw up so bad that they’ll come running to me, begging me to take McKay’s position.

Then, we’ll see how McKay likes it then.

* * *

_ Gluttony _

I can see how the Terrans look at me. They looked at me with thinly veiled fascination. The ones who look in disgust do a much better job of pretending to not look. They’re afraid I’ll blast them with my gun.

What I can’t get is why they think they’re somehow better than me. Well, almost everyone else outside Sheppard’s team.

But they hadn’t been running from the Wraith for seven years, with only a gun and their wits and skills at their disposal.

How many of them have faced three Wraith cornering them in a gully, and looked down into the grinning face of death?

Or scavenged a rotting corpse for partially unspoiled meat in order to eat to survive?

I know what I look like to them when I eat: a glut, as if I’d never eaten a proper meal in my life.

Let them think that.

I’d rather eat so much that my stomach aches a bit rather than experience that gnawing hunger if I can avoid it.

I’m cramming the last of the Salisbury steak in my mouth. I don’t know why McKay skins his nose up at good meat.

A shadow falls over me and I look up. Sheppard and McKay are there. McKay looks disgusted while Sheppard looks like he can’t believe I’m going to eat everything on my plate.

“You okay?” Sheppard asks.

“Yeah.” I reply around the Salisbury steak.

“Want some company?” Sheppard asks.

I take one look at McKay, who’s staring at the gravy streaked empty spot on my plate with horror.

“No.”

Sheppard nods his head with a quick shrug and smile and looks at McKay. He motions to an empty table a bit away and they’re gone a few seconds later.

I turn my attention back to my meal. I can hear McKay say, “God, he’s eating that disgusting stuff. Even I won’t eat that.”

I snort and keep eating. If I’ve become a glut in their eyes, then fine. But I’ll stay one as long as I can. Because we’re fighting the Wraith and, with everything that Atlantis has at its disposal, all it can take is one battle to go horribly wrong and give victory to the Wraith. And then we’ll all be Runners.

Besides, this Salisbury steak is pretty good.

* * *

_Lust_

I’m shameless, I know. I mean, who visits an infirmary almost a gazillion times a day to check out their totally hot boyfriend?

Well, a gazillion times any other day. I’ve got some training today, so I’m just making a pit stop to see Carson. I make my way to the infirmary and saunter in.

There’s Carson sitting at a desk, looking over some papers.

What I can’t figure out is how one man can look so innocently adorable and so sexy all at the same time. I could have sworn the two were mutually exclusive.

And that lab coat doesn’t exactly help. Oh, the fantasies I’ve had involving Carson and that lab coat.

Not to mention that table he’s working at now.

And what those oh so skilled hands of his are capable of.

And I sure didn’t forget about his mouth.

I’m probably the only one in all of Atlantis that knows he kisses like an angel. Which is nice and all… but once in awhile, you kinda want something to spice it up.

I was going to say something, but Carson’s doing that thing where he licks his lips, slowly and deliberately…

Yeah, he could be doing that in a few more places where it would feel way better. Actually I can think of at least fifty things I would rather be doing with Carson right now rather than having to go and do some training.

And all of them involve a decided lack of clothes and glorious nakedness.

I suppose it could be called the corruption of Carson, with me as the corrupter and him as the corruptee.

Oh, that sounds like loads of fun. But I don’t think Carson would be too happy if I interrupted whatever he’s working on now.

“Laura,” Carson’s voice startles me and focus my attention to find that he’s looking at me. “What are you doing here? I thought you had training today.”

“I do.” I say feeling a pang settle between my legs.

Carson’s brow furrows. “Are you okay? You look a wee bit flushed.”

I could reply… but I think the only words out my mouth would be describing all the wonderfully fun and lewd things I’d want to do with him. So I just grab him and kiss him.

Actions speak louder than words, right?

When I finally pull back, Carson looks dazed, bemused and pretty damn happy.

“Yeah, I’m just peachy,” I grin as I lick my lips; I’m probably the only one that knows Carson tastes like peppermint; it’s all that tea he drinks. “Everything’s awesome.”

Carson gives a goofy grin for a moment before he coughs and clears his throat. “So, um, I’ll see you tonight?”

Oh, Carson’s gonna see me tonight all right. “Yup. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

I kiss him on the cheek and wave as I walk from the infirmary. Yeah, corrupting Carson’s so at the top of my to-do list for today.

* * *

_Anger_

I can feel them.

They lurk where I had unconsciously established the barrier in my mind. It is my gate, my only protection against the collective thirst of the Wraith.

But some nights it is hard. Hard to sleep, hard to find calm, find any sort of relief. There is that horrible, cold feeling sitting in my chest, like a lump of ice, refusing to move.

Those are the nights that the Wraith whisper to me, half disjointed shadows of words and images fluttering against the barrier, where I can barely hear them.

They whisper, trying to get me to do horrible things.

To murder, to slaughter, those who have become my friends.

To imprison them, and leave them to rot.

Or to imprison them, and offer them up as tribute to the nearest Hive ship.

To abandon all I know and join them.

I have seen how their minds works. They believe they are immortal; that little, if not nothing, can kill them.

I, out of all the natives to this galaxy, know the error of those thoughts.

And this is what they would use to lure me to them.

Only to the Wraith have I ever given a completely rash answer. Only in response to the shadows that plague my mind when it seeks nothing more than the simple relief of sleep.

I always reply that they are a despicable plague that should be completely eradicated from existence.

Then they dare to mock me further. Those guttural voices dare to insult me, mock my sense of self-worth, of all that I hold dear to me…

All the Wraith can sense when they do this is the anger as a whole.

They can’t sense that they only fuel my rage. It burns slow, and the foolish, arrogant Wraith have only been providing fodder.

I close my eyes for a moment and then look over at the clock.

It reads 4 AM. I have not slept at all.

I lay in bed for a moment longer before I sit up and put my radio on.

“Dr Beckett?” I ask hesitantly.

“Go ahead.” Beckett’s clear response comes.

I almost audibly sigh in relief. “You are up.”

“Aye. I woke up early to start on some tests. Did you need something?”

“I…” I steel myself. “I have not been sleeping well.”

Beckett doesn’t speak for a moment, but I have a feeling of the suspicion that he is probably thinking right now. “Come on down and I’ll look after you.”

“Thank you.”

I click the radio off and don’t move for a moment. Then I rise from the bed and slip into more proper clothes before leaving for the infirmary. I know I need all the sleep I can get. As Major Sheppard would say, I’m going to kick some Wraith ass.

* * *

_ Greed _

One of the first things a Wraith must learn to fight is the hunger.

One learns to conquer it, to not let it control and drive actions.

And, above all, one learns when it can be safely sated.

I have been here for what is starting to become an irritable period of time.

The guards stand around my cell, primitive weapons ready to be fired at a moment’s notice. To fire at me, in an attempt to kill.

I can smell them; they reek of youth, of strong vibrant life. A wonderfully delicious feed, sitting just out of reach.

I do hunger for it.

I long to feel that flow of life leeching from my meal and suffusing me.

I long to feel it revitalise my Hunger-wracked body.

To see the fear in their eyes as they realise what’s happening and are powerless to stop it.

I know it is only a matter of time before I am either rescued or manage to escape.

Then these arrogant humans will know the true meaning of fear. I will hunt them down mercilessly; make them Run, for my own amusement.

And I will slowly feed off all of them.

Atlantis will become my personal feeding ground. I do not need so large a supply of humans.

But I want to feed on all of them, continually sate my Hunger on them, the ones who inflicted it.

Especially Major Sheppard; he looks like he would be a particularly satisfying meal.

The door clangs as it opens, drawing my attention, though I don’t move. I know exactly who it is.

Sheppard comes in and starts on his usual insolent spiel of attempting to gain information from me, gradually infuriating me. And then he says something that definitely catches my attention.

“We could talk about easing your hunger… Steve.”

I sneer. “You would never sacrifice one of your own kind. And yet, it is all that stands between you and the information you seek.”

Sheppard simply gives me one of his infuriatingly innocent looks. Oh yes, Sheppard will be the first one I feed on when I’m free. And I shall drain him absolutely dry until he is nothing more than a withered husk.

* * *

_ Sloth _

I’m not being lazy.

I prefer to call it energy conservation. Fighting the Wraith can take a lot out of a guy.

One day off isn’t about the end of the world. There’re loads of other people capable of taking care of things while I enjoy my day off.

I’m still in bed and you know what? I don’t exactly intend on getting up and out of it anytime soon.

It’s Sunday, and I think I’m gonna laze about in bed for another hour or two. Maybe three. Actually, the whole day sounds pretty good.

A whole day of doing absolutely nothing that I have to do. I can actually finish off War and Peace. Maybe get started on Anna Karenina.

I can’t even really recall the last time I had a whole day to do absolutely nothing. Outside of Beckett’s orders.

Do nothing. The more I think about it, the better it sounds. Just laze about.

But, then again, it sounds too good to be true. As if McKay or Teyla or Ronon will come bursting through that door any moment now, saying that we’ve got to rush off and save the day.

I shift a bit and look at the door in question for a few minutes. Nothing so far. But I’m gonna play it safe here.

It takes less than a minute for the door to lock shut.

When it doesn’t whiz open, I grunt happily and reach over for War and Peace and the few Powerbars I keep nearby.

Yeah, I know it looks like I’m a lazy bum. I mean, I’m still in pyjamas and just flopped out across the bed, a book in one hand, and if I gave the blankets one half-hearted kick, they would go slithering off the bed to the floor.

But I’m comfortable. So very, very comfortable.

I’m through a good chunk of War and Peace when a buzzing sound reaches my ears. I half raise my head, look around and then go back to reading. I’m willing to think it’s a souped up bug zapper somewhere nearby… not that Atlantis has bugs or anything.

That buzzing sound comes once more and I can hear vaguely on the other side of the door, “Damn it Sheppard, open up! You can’t possibly still be asleep at this hour of the afternoon!”

Afternoon? I blink lazily and look over at the clock. Yup, afternoon; the display is reading 5 PM. And my stomach is starting to get the grumbles from not having eaten anything.

“What kind of lazy schlep are you?”

Yeah, McKay would be the one to interrupt my book-reading time. And with an annoying as hell door buzzer nonetheless.

I grumble, stomp over to the door and open it. “Yeah?”

McKay standing there and he looks taken aback. “Oh, you’re alive.”

I look at him quizzically. “And?”

“Everyone couldn’t figure out where you were and,” McKay pauses. “Are you still wearing pyjamas?”

I watch McKay for a long moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I finally say before I close the door and lock it again.

Yeah, I’ve got a nice warm bed, some Powerbars and War and Peace waiting for me. I’m not going anywhere else.

* * *


End file.
